At the age of 86, gay icon Tab Hunter revealed shocking truths about his Hollywood love life, and not all of them were glamorous. It’s a journey from an abandoned boy to an international sex symbol filled with dark secrets, betrayal, and ultimately the power of resilience.
If you grew up with classics like Casablanca or stars like Humphrey Bogart and Joan Crawford, this story will make you reflect deeply, tug at your heartstrings, and even surprise you with the hidden corners of Hollywood’s golden era. Tab Hunter was born on July 11th, 1931 in a New York City hospital to a troubled family.
His mother, Gertrude Gellon, was a German immigrant, only 20 years old when she gave birth to him. And his father, an irresponsible man, wasn’t even present at his birth. He stopped by briefly, tossed a cheap candy bar onto the hospital bed, and left, refusing to name his son. The birth certificate simply read male.
Gertrude was left to raise two sons alone, Arthur and his older brother, Walt. It was a tough start, wasn’t it? In the 1930s, a single mother in America faced harsh social judgment, poverty, and isolation. Gertrude worked tirelessly to provide for her boys, and Arthur and Walt learned to look out for each other.
Walt, the protective older brother, guided the shy Arthur, who always avoided attention. Arthur grew up in a strict Catholic environment, but lacked a father’s love, leaving him feeling lost from a young age. According to his autobiography, Gertrude provided everything except emotional warmth, shaping Arthur’s introspective and reserved personality, always pushing negative emotions out of his mind.
When the family moved to Los Angeles in the 1940s, Arthur grew even more self-conscious. He felt out of place, among others, always like an outsider. Then as a teenager, his striking good looks, golden blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and a tall athletic build began drawing intense attention, especially from girls at school.
They chased him through hallways, screaming, forcing him to hide in empty classrooms or lockers to escape. But this attention only heightened his anxiety, as Arthur soon realized he was attracted to men. At the time, the word gay wasn’t common. Instead, people used derogatory, hateful terms filled with disgust.
Homosexuality was seen as a mental illness, a crime punishable by severe consequences. Doctors recommended horrific treatments like electric shocks, induced vomiting, forced sterilization, or even labbotoies. With no role models, Arthur experimented a few times with men, but was consumed by guilt afterward, questioning whether he was doing something wrong or possessed by demons.
Once he confessed to a priest at church, hoping for help and salvation, but was met with harsh scolding and expulsion, leaving him feeling beyond redemption. That despair, my friends, is a pain many in our generation can relate to. Living in a society where personal secrets could ruin an entire life, where love was branded a dark sin.
It’s a mystery of that era. How could a shy boy like Arthur survive in such a judgmental world? And what consequences would his secrets bring? Arthur drifted through countless jobs to find himself and survive. He sold orange juice at Orange Julius in LA, welded metal in a factory, made milkshakes at a Rexall Pharmacy where he served stars like Rody McDow, who later became a close friend after Arthur learned he was also gay, sharing their hidden truths.
He worked at the Warner Brothers Theater on Hollywood Boulevard, where he befriended Carol Bernett, a young woman also struggling to find her path. They both despised their bullying boss and quit together, vowing never to return. Arthur loved movies, especially adventure films with heroic male stars like Tyrone Power in Son of Fury or John Hall in Invisible Agent.
These films inspired him to drop out of school at 15, lie about his age, and join the Coast Guard, hoping for a real adventure to escape his dead-end life and inner turmoil. But reality was harsh. He was sent to a weather station in the Pacific, surrounded by nothing but endless ocean and loneliness. Later, he was transferred to Connecticut for training there, near New York.
He tried to find his father, a man he’d never known, hoping to fill the void in his heart. He knocked on the last known address, but a furious woman answered. And behind her, in the shadows, sat his father, refusing to meet him. The door slammed shut, leaving Arthur with the pain of rejection once again, deeper than ever.
Soon after, the Coast Guard discovered his age lie and sent him back to LA. Two rejections in a row plunged Arthur into deep depression, confused about his sexuality, wondering if his life had any way forward. Back in LA, Arthur cautiously sought male companionship, knowing the high risks society could lead to jail or forced treatment.
Once he narrowly escaped a car accident after being harassed by a drunk man, fleeing in fear, but then his brother Walt introduced him to horseback riding at Griffith Park. At first, Arthur was terrified, his heart pounding as he mounted a horse. But gradually, he found peace. Caring for animals and physical work gave him a sense of belonging he’d never felt.
He started visiting the stables regularly. Working in exchange for riding time, and it was there, with a shovel of manure in hand, that he felt closest to God. Horses became a cure for his loneliness. And he dreamed of owning one, though it seemed impossible for a poor boy. It was a beautiful emotional moment in his life where nature and animals brought hope amid the darkness.
One day while riding in the park, Arthur met Dick Clayton, a minor actor. Dick saw potential in Arthur’s looks, tall, blonde, blue-eyed, and asked if he’d considered acting. Arthur brushed it off, thinking it was a crazy idea. He was just a horseloving kid, not a star. But Dick persisted, becoming a friend and encouraging Arthur to finish high school.
After graduating, Arthur wanted independence and with Walt rented an apartment from a man named Terry, who was also gay. Money was tight, and Arthur needed steady work. Remembering Dick’s advice, he decided to try acting. Dick introduced him to Agent Henry Wilson at a glamorous Hollywood party. Henry, known for representing handsome men like Lana Turner, Natalie Wood, Rock Hudson, and Anne Southern, saw Arthur and decided to make him a star.
Henry loved giving his clients macho nicknames, and he chose Tab from Tab, as in a bill, but it sounded tough, and Hunter from Arthur’s favorite type of horse. Arthur Gallian didn’t like the new name, but Henry didn’t care. As he left the party, Arthur became Tab Hunter. It was a mysterious moment from a boy shoveling manure to a potential star.
But were Henry’s intentions pure. Henry landed Tab a small role in The Lawless in 1950 with just one line that got cut. But he earned $500, a fortune compared to his old jobs. That’s when he realized the new name wasn’t so bad, and he could use the money to pursue his passion for horses and support his boyfriend, Ronnie Robertson.
A figure skater with the world’s fastest spin, Ronnie dreamed of going professional, and Tab wanted to help. But Henry sent few auditions, mostly using Tab as a date for dinners and clubs. Tab cleverly dodged this by bringing along a female friend who knew the truth. His career stalled and he took odd jobs and government assistance.
One night in October 1952, Terry invited Tab to a party in Walnut Park. Tab thought it was just a fun gathering, but it was a meetup for gay men. He hid in the kitchen, scavenging free food when police raided the place. In the 1950s, gay gatherings were considered criminal lewd and lascivious acts tied to theft.
Some say a guest invited an undercover cop from a bar. Others claimed neighbors called because they hated homosexuals. Either way, Tab and others were hauled to jail. Normally, they’d face fines, jail time, and public shaming in the press, ruining their careers. Tab worried about his mother and his budding career.
Luckily, a guest called lawyer Greg Bozer, a studio attorney who handled scandals. Bozer reduced the charge to disturbing the peace with a small fine, probation, and no press coverage. Tab swore to keep it secret. That was his first scan scandal, a dark mystery that nearly ended everything. But his career still floundered, and Tab fired Henry, who was furious and spread vicious rumors, like Tab being named after a sleeping Tab for being boring in bed.
It was a feud full of mystery and betrayal. With new agent Dick Clayton, Tab auditioned for Island of Desire in 1952 at United Artists. Screenwriter Stephanie Nordley asked him to take off his shirt and she cast him as a sailor opposite the alluring Linda Darnell. The film released, critics panned his acting, but female fans went wild for his physique. Fan mail poured in.
Magazines put him on covers and linked him with Debbie Reynolds. Directors took notice and Tab land landed macho soldier roles like Battlecry in 1955 and The Girl He Left Behind in 1956, often shirtless. Battlecry was Warner’s biggest hit of 1955, grossing $8 million, the third highest that year, based on Leon Urus’s novel filmed at Camp Pendleton.
Tab knew his acting was weak, so he left Hollywood to study theater in our town in Taft, a town of just a few thousand. Lead actress Marilyn Erskin initially doubted him, calling him a clumsy oaf, but rigorous training in character, emotion, and audience engagement transformed him.
The play succeeded, touring California, and helped Tab mature. Marilyn impressed introduced him to her boyfriend Eddie Fischer, the singer famous for Oh My Papa. Eddie knew Warner was casting Battlecry, needing a handsome actor for Complex Emotions. James Dean and Paul Newman auditioned, but Tab’s chemistry won the role.
Warner signed him for 6 months at $500 a week. Filming in Puerto Rico, Tab impressed, and Life magazine called him a rising star. Jack Warner took notice, signing him for seven years, promising to make him a star like B. Davis or Humphrey Bogart. At Warner, Tab starred in The Sea Chase in 1955 with John Wayne playing a German captain in World War II, a sea adventure, Track of the Cat in 1954 with Robert Mitchum, a family drama, and The Burning Hills in 1956 with Natalie Wood, a Russian immigrant’s daughter, famous from Miracle on 34th Street, and Rebel Without a Cause. Natalie mentored Tab, becoming close friends, sharing studio pressures. The studio fabricated a romance to hide his sexuality, sending them on fake dates and leaking invented love stories, like Tab giving Natalie
roses or dancing under the moonlight. Tab hated the facade but complied because his mother suffered a mental breakdown in the 1950s undergoing electric shock therapy. He visited her seeing her shaved head and pained body as she asked, “Why did you do this to me?” Doctors said stress contributed. So Tab vowed to care for her forever.
Even recording a PSA about mental health, rare for a star then, emphasizing empathy for patients. Being gay remained a heavy burden. It was labeled a mental illness. And Tab lived in guilt, feeling he was living two lives. The secret grew heavier when Howard Rushmore, editor of Confidential, a tabloid backed by wealthy Republicans who despised gays and progressives opposing interracial marriage, targeted stars like Rock Hudson.
They had photos of Rock with men. But Agent Henry Wilson, still bitter at Tab, made a deal. Spare Rock. Expose Tab. Confidential published a story about Tab’s 1950 arrest at a limp wrist pajama party, describing it as two dozen of the gayest guys the cops ever saw. Tab was stunned, thinking his career was over. Warner countered with positive press.
Tab dated women, was the boy next door, cared for his mother, and had male friends, not lovers. They even praised his handwriting. They gave him the most promising new male personality award at the audience awards. Jack Warner personally intervened when a photographer taunted today’s headline, tomorrow’s toilet paper.
The press dismissed confidential as cheap gossip and Hollywood knew not to cross Tab or Warner. It was an emotional moment pulled from the brink, but Tab learned the power of studios and the cost of secrets. Tab dated Anthony Perkins, Broadway star of Tea and Sympathy, playing a possibly gay boy.
After meeting at a West Hollywood hotel pool, their 2-year romance was sweet but dangerous, full of mystery. Paramount considered signing Perkins for $15 million. Needing a straighton image, they hid, going to theaters separately, sitting together after lights dimmed, using separate cars, living nearby to sneak over at night.
Studios pushed female dates, pairing Tab with Natalie Wood or Debbie Reynolds. But insiders knew Dorothy, a neighbor helping Tab’s mother, discovered missing money and blackmailed him over his male friends. Tab was furious but paid to protect his mother, feeling betrayed by someone close. Career-wise, Tab dreamed of musicals starring in Damn Yankees in 1958, but director George Abbott forced him to mimic Ray Walston’s Broadway role, leaving him frustrated, feeling like someone else’s shadow.
Loaned to Colombia, he starred in Theyump to Cordura in 1959 with Gary Cooper and Rita Hworth, playing Lieutenant William Fowler in a Mexicanamean war film exploring cowardice and courage, earning praise for deeper acting. Gunman’s Walk in 1958 with Van Heftlin, a western about family violence, saw Tab as a rebellious son.
During the Burning Hills, a DJ praised Tab’s voice, leading to Dot Records recording Young Love, a number one hit, topping Elvis for six weeks, selling 2 million copies, certified gold by the RAIAA, influencing rock and roll. 99 Ways, hit number 11 in the US, number five in the UK. Jack Warner, furious that Paramounts Dot profited, banned recordings and started Warner Brothers Records.
Tab had to do TV, which he saw as a step back. He refused, got suspended, and begged to leave. Warner demanded $100,000. Tab agreed, paying with 25% of his earnings. Feeling free but anxious. Leaving Warner, Tab missed Westside Story. Natalie played Maria, but Tony went to younger Richard Bamer. Other roles passed to Terrence Stamp for Billy Bud.
Debt lingered and Tab took low-budget films like Operation Bikini in 1963, variety shows, and Dinner Theater, exhausting, lonely, performing for 1,500, then returning to a hotel alone. He moved to Virginia with John, posing as his secretary, raising horses, living simply.
Work dwindled to dinner theater with older audiences reminding him he used to be somebody. Tabloids mocked him for begging for work via variety ads, spreading lies about acid overdoses or dog abuse. He won lawsuits but at a cost. His image damaged, the boy next door crumbling. In 1957, California sued confidential, threatening to call stars to testify, including Tab.
He feared swearing under oath, possibly admitting his sexuality or lying. The six-week trial saw stars like Francesca Dafa nearly driven to suicide by humiliation. It ended in a settlement. The case dropped and confidential stopped gossip. Tab didn’t testify, possibly because lawyers feared his sexuality would sway the court.
Another mystery of the era. His career slid further. The Tab Hunter Show sitcom from 1960 to 1961 flopped and guest roles like The Virginia in 1964 were sparse. With Jon, their relationship soured and they split. Jon blackmailed Tab with love letters for $10,000. Tab paid, feeling betrayed again.
Then news came that Walt died in Vietnam and Tab wept alone in a San Francisco horse stall mourning the brother who protected him. He took bad films like One Tonton, The Dog Who Saved Hollywood in 1976, a parody about a dog saving Hollywood. In the early 1980s, after dinner theater in Chapter 2 in Indianapolis, John Waters called the quirky director of Pink Flamingos.
A tab fan, Waters offered Polyester in 1981, starring with Divine, a 350-lb drag queen. The gimmick scratch and sniff cards for audiences from flowers to feces. Tab hesitated. Friends warned it would ruin his image. But reading the script, he thought, “What’s to lose? My career’s gone.” Filming in Baltimore for 3 weeks with no trailer and eating cold pizza at 2:00 a.m. felt like family.
and Tab felt free. Polyester was a hit. Critics praised Tab for elevating it and the New York Times called him endearing. He was reborn, reaching a new generation. Feeling inspired, Tab embraced Camp Madam’s Place in 1982 with puppet Wayand Flowers. Greece 2 in 1982, singing the humorous reproduction. He wrote Lust in the Dust in 1985.
a western parody with Divine filmed in New Mexico. He met Alan Glazer, a Fox executive, and they fell in love. Allan quit producing, a risky move, but believing in a better future. The film became a cult classic with Variety calling it saucy, irreverent, quite funny. They produced Dark Horse in 1992 with Natasha Gregson Wagner, Natalie Wood’s daughter, stirring memories of his old friend deeply emotional.
Tab witnessed Rock Hudson’s 1985 death from AIDS amid societal stigma and fears of blacklisting gays over kissing concerns. Anthony Perkins died in 1992. Tab had offered him a role in Lust, but Perkins declined. Their last meeting tinged with regret. In the 1990s, Tab retired to raise horses.
Finding simple happiness, feeling closest to God with a shovel of manure. Hearing of an unauthorized biography, he wrote Tab Hunter Confidential. In 2005 with Eddie Mueller, a New York Times bestseller openly discussing his sexuality and life from childhood to love. A 2015 documentary by Jeffrey Schwarz with interviews from Waters, Clint Eastwood, and Debbie Reynolds won awards.
Tab married Allan in 2015 and died on July 8th, 2018 at 86 from a blood clot, leaving a legacy of love and resilience. Now, let’s dive deeper for insight. Tab Hunter represents 1950s Hollywood’s golden age. Studios like Warner Brothers built stars from nothing, controlling every aspect of their lives.
Jack Warner was like a doineering father, protecting his assets but stifling freedom, trapping Tab in the perfect boy next door image. Homosexuality was an immense burden. Society deemed it a mental illness and crime and Tab lived in guilt, hiding to survive. Compared to Rock Hudson, Tab was more discreet. But both were victims of a Hollywood system where personal secrets could be exploited for profit or revenge.
I admire Tab from an abandoned boy with no father and a sick mother to a sex symbol then falling to dinner theater and be movies only to rise again by bravely embracing his truth. It’s a lesson in resilience and authenticity even if late for those over 65. This story recalls societal shifts from an era when being gay meant jail or electric shocks to today’s same-sex marriage and pride month.
Tab inspires life true to yourself. Find simple joys like tending horses and never give up despite life’s betrayals. [Music] Tab’s story is full of mystery and sensationalism. Who really called the lawyer to save him in 1950? Why did Henry Wilson’s grudge lead to betrayal? How did he survive the confidential scandal without ruin? Yet he overcame finding happiness with Allen and horses.
An emotional inspiring end. It’s not just Hollywood scandal. It’s a human journey full of hope amid dark despair. Recent ex posts like at David Lambert Art celebrating Tab’s birthday with a damn Yankees photo or at Divine Official reminiscing about Tab and Divine in polyester as a perfect pair show his legacy lives on.
At Bruce Lee called him a gay Republican dreamboat highlighting his complex politics. Tab was a conservative Republican yet lived authentically. These posts with vintage photos and heartfelt comments bridge past and present, proving Tab still inspires the LGBTQ plus community and old Hollywood fans. Let’s expand on Tab’s film career for clarity.
In Battlecry, 1955, Tab played Danny Forester, a Marine in World War II, based on Leon Urus’s novel grossing $8 million. He starred with Van Heftlin and Aldo Ray, praised for chemistry with Tab Raymond. The film launched him, but he admitted his early acting was weak, so he studied theater, a bold move at his peak.
Damn Yankees, 1958, was a musical peak with Tab as Joe Hardy, a man who sells his soul to play baseball, singing Goodbye Old Girl and Two Lost Souls with Gwen Verden. The film won an Oscar for its screenplay, but Tab felt stifled copying the Broadway role, fueling studio tensions. After leaving Warner, he starred in They Came to Cordura, 1959 with Gary Cooper and Rita Hworth, directed by Fred Zineman as Lieutenant William Fowler, exploring cowardice and courage, earning praise for nuanced acting.
In That Kind of Woman, 1959, with Sophia Loren, directed by Sydney Lume, Tab played a charming young soldier, showing depth beyond his macho image. Music was a vital emotional part. Young Love, 1957, topped charts in the US and UK, selling a million copies in its first week, influencing rock and roll with its romantic lyrics.
Tab recorded an album with Dot, including Red Sails in the Sunset and I’m a Runaway, but Warner’s band forced him to their label, sparking conflict. He appeared on TV in Playhouse990s Forbidden Area 1956, a Rod Surling drama directed by John Frankenheimer, earning praise for intensity.
His sitcom, The Tab Hunter Show, 1960 to 1961 ran 32 episodes with Tab as Paul Morgan, a bachelor cartoonist popular in the UK but flopping in the US due to weak scripts. His personal life was tragic and mysterious. His romance with Anthony Perkins began in 1956, lasting four years, hidden due to scandal fears. Perkins, star of Psycho, was also gay, and they shared their fears, meeting secretly at theaters or homes.
In his book, Tab recalled meeting at Chateau Marmmont’s pool, falling deeply in love, but Hollywood pressures split them, leaving regret. with Alan Glazer met in 1983 during Lust in the Dust. They lived together 35 years, marrying in 2013, formalized in 2015. Allan helped produce the Tab Hunter Confidential documentary 2015, winning awards like best documentary at Film Out San Diego with emotional interviews from friends.
The 1955 confidential scandal was peak sensationalism. The magazine detailed Tab’s arrest at a gay pajama party, but Warner countered with stories of him dating Natalie Wood and Debbie Reynolds. Tab wrote that Henry Wilson betrayed him to save Rock Hudson, trading secrets. The 1957 confidential trial nearly forced Tab to testify, but a settlement saved him, a legal mystery of the era.
Post 1960, Tab took bee movies like The Golden Arrow 1962 with Rosana Podista, Ride the Wild Surf, 1964 with Fabian, a Hawaii surfing film, and TV roles like Combat 1964 in The Long Way Home in the 1970s. He did dinner theater like The Tender Trap with Don Knots and Here Lies Jeremy Troy across the US.
His comeback with Waters in Polyester 1981 as Todd Tomorrow kissing Divine used Odorama’s scent gimmick Lust in the Dust Main 85 a Duel in the Sun parody had Tab as Abel Wood produced with Allen a low-budget cult hit his legacy Tab earned a Hollywood Walk of Fame star at 6320 Hollywood Blood and the 2007 Golden Boot Award for Western contributions.
s his book and Netflix documentary 2015 cemented his queer icon status. He died of a blood clot 3 days before his 87th birthday, buried at Santa Barbara Cemetery, mourned by friends. My take as a blogger, I see Tab as a resilience icon in the 1950s oppressive society. He came out at 74 bravely. For older audiences, his story reflects change.
From an era of jail and electric shocks for being gay to same-sex marriage and pride today, Tab teaches living authentically, loving fully, even late. The big mystery. How did he carry his secret so long? Yet he triumphed, finding joy with Allen and horses. Simple childhood joys inspiring us to face challenges. Thank you for listening.
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